The Lunch Conundrum

Featuring Le Baratin, Avant Comptoire de la Mer and Aux Deux Amis

Today, like most mornings, I am woken by a prod in the eye from a soft paw. I slowly sit up to be greeted by a pair of the saddest little furry faces. “Father…” the cats plead to me with their eyes, “...we are in a dire state and need immediate nourishment. A whole evening has elapsed since we have had so much as a nibble.”   

As I trudge to the kitchen to retrieve the dry food from the cupboard, two cats in tow, I consider my own culinary predicament. It will soon be my lunchtime and a decision will have to be made. I must choose a place to eat and also find a way to get there. Even at such an early hour as this, there is already much to think about.

It happens to be a Saturday, which means I am legitimately allowed to drink wine at lunchtime as long as I make notes and classify it as research. There are thousands of places in Paris to eat on a Saturday afternoon, but realistically the shortlist will be boiling down to three. The big three. The Manchester City, Arsenal, and Liverpool of the midday gastronomic scene. It’s going to be either Le Baratin, Avant Comptoire de la Mer, or Aux Deux Amis.

There is a lot to like about all these places, so the process of elimination will probably come down to some external factors. To work up an appetite I head to the gym where I will think this over in detail between sets and posing in the mirror to admire my triceps. Since we are already on the subject of meats, let us first consider Le Baratin. 

Le Baratin is not for vegetarians. There are often various forms of offal on the menu and I’m not sure there is any dish served without dead animal. I was first drawn to this place by their Instagram account, which consisted of photos of the menu written on a chalkboard which were completely unreadable. “We are not going to try to impress you,” it whispered. “Come here or don’t.” In an era when food is being judged more for how it looks than how it tastes, I found this attitude to be most appetising. 

The last meal I had at Le Baratin is one that remains in close memory. Pork ribs, both perfectly crispy and succulent at the same time, served with a light broth of spring vegetables that were full of bite. It’s a dish I’ve tried to recreate at home, with varying degrees of success, and I could certainly eat something like that today. The only problem is getting a table. 

I’m allergic to making reservations, mostly because I barely ever know what day it is and can’t plan ahead for anything. Le Baratin is only a 15 minute walk from where I live, so the best bet would be to go down there and hope that I bump into the young guy who waits tables. He is usually receptive and will almost certainly find me a space. The chances are, though, that I will instead come across the owner, and he doesn’t take kindly to walk-ins. 

“Complet...” he will say, before going back to his newspaper. There is no point trying to reason with him, suggesting that perhaps you could sit up at the bar. “Complet complet…” he will reply, no matter how empty the place is. I do want those ribs again, but I’m not sure if I can handle the rejection today. 

Next up is Avant Comptoir de la Mer, the seafood tapas spinoff by the famous Comptoir brasserie in the 6th. I’ve had many wonderful afternoons sitting at that bar. On route I will usually pass by the Gibert Joseph bookshop on Boulevard Saint Michel and pick up a Photo Poche to look at during my lunch. It doesn’t get much better than an afternoon eating squid cooked with chorizo and fine de claire oysters while reading about Eugène Atget or Willy Ronis. 

Avant Comptoir de la Mer also has a good selection of red wines that are light enough to drink with your crispy shrimp in miso broth, but they aren’t exactly cheap. You can easily run up a drinks bill that outweighs what you have eaten. The other problem with the Comptoir is that from my place it’s a good 30 minute cycle through midday traffic. I could of course get the metro, which means I can look at the Danton mural at Odeon and enjoy what is possibly the most gangster quote in history. “Show my head to the people…” he said before facing the guillotine at the behest of Robespierre. “It’s worth looking at.”

Finally, down in the depths of Oberkampf, we have Aux Deux Amis. The menu here is so small it is literally written on a waiter’s pad, but in addition they also have some great Basque tapas which I find to be as good as anything north of Guéthary. Their delightful beer is only sold in half pints and the selection of wines with funky labels always brings me joy. They also have a quote in their bathroom from Karl Lagerfeld. “Si tu pisses partout, t'es pas Chanel du tout.” It’s not Danton, but he does have a point. 

So what should we do? Face being turned away at Le Baratin? Ride across town for some Bayonne-style croquettes? Or hit the bar district and hope the narrow selection is up my alley? Here is where the mitigating circumstances come into play. Ever since I saw the Scorsese advert for Chanel Bleu with little Timothée Chalamet, I’ve wanted to get myself a bottle of that expensive musk. That means a shopping trip in the Marais and the closest of my potential choices is Aux Deux Amis. It has been decided, then.  

I order the sardines, which I assumed would be from a tin (no bad thing!) but turn out to be fresh, served in oil and dusted with some light paprika. I add a little tabasco for kick. Then the octopus which is charred and plated with baby boiled potatoes and a sauce made from Nduja, a spicy, spreadable Italian sausage. The barman let me try several wines to wash it down with, but inevitably I went for the Côtes de Gascogne, a no-nonsense dry white that goes with practically everything. 

It was all up in the air for a while, but by the grace of God another lunch conundrum has been solved. I won’t have to think about eating again for at least a few hours. Now it’s time to head to BHV and see what the perfume counters have to offer. Can Chanel transform me into a beautiful movie star man-boy? Only time will tell. 

Edit: I bought the perfume. It didn’t.